Chapter 4

I woke in a hospital bed. Alone.

I asked the nurse, "Where is everyone?"

"Your husband is in the next room with Miss Clara. Should I let him know you're awake?"

I shook my head. "Don't bother."

After confirming I was stable, the doctor sent me for a full checkup.

Walking past Lucas and Clara's room, I heard their voices.

"Lillian's hurt too. She's your wife. If she wakes up and you're not there, she'll be crushed."

Lucas's voice was impatient. "You worry about Lillian when you've got a baby in your belly?"

"But..."

Clara tried to say more, but Lucas cut her off.

"The doctors said she's fine. Right now, you matter more to me than anyone."

In his eyes, I would never measure up to Clara.

I didn't say a word. I walked away.

I had less than three days left.

Three days, and he'd get exactly what he wanted.

Over the next two days, Lucas stayed by Clara's side. He visited me only occasionally.

"She was really shaken up," he explained flatly. "I'm her only family. I have to be there. You understand, don't you?"

I nodded, played along, said nothing.

Maybe out of guilt, he showed up on discharge day to drive me home.

He didn't get out to open the door. The car unlocked automatically, and I climbed in.

The man who was so tender with Clara was cold as ice with me.

He glanced over. "Still hurt?"

I shook my head, silent.

The car roared to life. We drove in silence until he finally spoke.

"I've been too busy to spend time with you lately. You used to always talk about wanting to go to an amusement park. Let's do that today."

I frowned. No idea what he was up to.

Next thing I knew, we were at Coney Island.

The manager gave us VIP access, no lines.

So Lucas held my hand on the carousel, the roller coaster. On the Drop Tower, we both squeezed our eyes shut.

I accidentally grabbed his hand—then let go as soon as I realized.

Last stop: the Ferris wheel.

It rose slowly, lifting us above the city.

Fireworks burst overhead. Magical.

Lucas took a photo—and immediately started typing on his phone.

I caught a glimpse of the screen. It was his chat with Clara.

A picture of the Ferris wheel and sunset fireworks.

Caption: Beautiful up here. I'll bring you next time.

I'd heard it said that the Ferris wheel was the "wheel of happiness." Ride it with someone you love, and you'd be happy forever.

For so long—even through our marriage—riding that wheel with Lucas had been my dream.

But now, at the highest point in the sky, I'd never felt farther from happiness.

When the wheel stopped, night had fallen.

Lucas booked a Michelin-starred Italian place. Offhand, he added:

"Clara's getting her nails done nearby. Might as well have her join us."

"Convenient," or "deliberate"—I didn't care to guess.

I just said "okay." Clara showed up quickly.

"Lillian, how was my brother today?"

I shrugged. "Fine."

"I knew you'd like it." She beamed. "You've seemed down lately, so I told him to cheer you up. He's so stiff and clueless about women. Be patient with him."

So that was it. He'd only done all this because Clara told him to.

Later, the restaurant put on a flambé show. Clara was mesmerized, dragging Lucas to watch.

I slipped away to the bathroom, exhausted.

When I came out, chaos had erupted. People were stampeding toward the exits, shrieking.

I smelled smoke.

"Fire! Get out!"

My first instinct was to flee—but Lucas and Clara were still in the back.

Against my better judgment, I pushed through the crowd.

I reached the private room just as Lucas was ushering Clara out, shielding her with his body.

"Bro, Lillian's still in the restroom! She doesn't know about the fire! Go find her—I can get out on my own!"

"No. You come with me first."

His voice was urgent, stubborn.

But Clara kept insisting. "I'll be fine! Go get Lillian—she's your wife! You should protect her first!"

"Clara, listen to me. You're the only one who matters. Everyone else is secondary."

Each word cut into me like glass.

I bit my lip, clenched my fists, and stayed silent.

After they'd gone, the crowd surged and knocked me down. My head hit a table edge, and pain shot through me.

The fire grew closer.

I dragged myself up, covered my mouth, and stumbled toward the exit.

Outside, I saw Lucas carrying Clara away in his arms.

My eyes burned. Tears spilled over.

I looked at my bruised arm and laughed bitterly at myself.

I texted Clara to say I was okay, then went home alone.

After the fire, Clara was too shaken to be left alone.

And Lucas had the perfect excuse to stay with her.

I asked nothing. Said nothing.

I packed the rest of my things and confirmed my flight for the next day.

When the final morning came, I sent my luggage ahead to the airport.

I was heading downstairs when I ran into Clara.

She saw my suitcase and went pale. "Lillian... you're leaving?"

I didn't deny it.

She panicked. "Is this because Lucas has been spending time with me? We're friends—if there's a misunderstanding, we can talk it out! You don't have to leave!"

Friends?

I almost laughed.

If she really considered me a friend, why did she push me toward Lucas in the first place?

If she really considered me a friend, why was she pregnant and planning to swap my baby with hers?

I didn't have time to waste on her lies.

"As of today," I said coldly, "we're not friends."

I started walking. She followed, still pleading.

Then her foot slipped.

She tumbled down the stairs.

"Ahhh!"

She grabbed for me—and pulled me down with her.

Lucas came running. All he saw was us both falling.

"Clara!" He shoved me aside and scooped her up.

His eyes burned with fury. "Lillian, you pushed her?!"

"I didn't."

"Don't lie to me!" He knocked me to the ground. "Take her to the punishment room. Now."

The guards dragged me away.

The whip came down, again and again.

I curled up on the cold floor, blood soaking through my clothes.

The pain faded. All I felt was cold.

When the guards left, I forced myself up and escaped the villa.

Every step was agony.

But every step was also freedom.

On the plane, watching the city shrink below me, I finally exhaled.

I closed my eyes and thought:

Goodbye, Lucas.